


Kinship

by BrittaTheBest



Category: Anne with an E (TV)
Genre: Canon Gay Character, F/F, Gay Bar, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Lesbian Diana Barry, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Post-Canon, Post-Finale, Sneaking Out, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21596893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrittaTheBest/pseuds/BrittaTheBest
Summary: After Diana came out to Cole during her first months at Queens, he knew that she is the first person he wanted to tell when he heard rumours of a gay bar in The Bog.Or, Cole and Diana have a Gay Old Time without telling Josephine
Relationships: Cole Mackenzie/Original Male Character(s), Diana Barry & Cole MacKenzie
Comments: 17
Kudos: 99





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! This concept is a recurring topic of conversation over on the lesbian Diana discord and I just really wanted to do my take so here we GO

The boarding house was very quaint. Walking up the front steps, Cole couldn't help but smile to think how much Anne must love living here. It looked like something out of a novel. He knocked on the door and rocked on his heels as he waited.

The door opened to reveal a small old woman dressed in black. She took him in and gave a tight smile. "Good afternoon. I must inform you that suitors are only permitted on Saturdays between two and four."

"Oh -" He surpressed a smile. "I - I'm not a suitor. I'm a friend."

"I'm afraid you'll find that that distinction means very little to me. Goodbye." She began to close the door.

"Wait." He reached out a hand. "I'm here to see Diana Barry. I board with her great aunt. If she's in, I can leave with her and we won't disrupt your lovely establishment."

She softened a little, but shook her head. "I'm sorry. The girls here are very busy with their studies. You'll have to -"

"Cole?"

He turned. Diana was several steps across the lawn, a satchel at her hip. She appeared to be just returning from a class. He turned back to the woman at the door. "Thank you. Sorry." He hurried back down the steps and over to Diana before she could reply. 

Diana frowned, looking over his shoulder to the closing door. "You haven't just gotten me into trouble with Mrs Blackmore, have you? She already hates me because of my association with Anne."

He raised an eyebrow. "What did Anne do?"

She rolled her eyes, but smiled. "Kissed Gilbert on the front lawn in plain view of the parlour. Rarely keeps lights out because she's always writing letters or reading. You know Anne."

"I do." He grinned at her. "Hello, by the way."

"Hello, Cole. I imagine you're looking for Anne?"

"No, actually. I came to see you."

Her brow creased in concern. "Why? Is everything alright? Aunt Josephine -"

"Nothing's wrong. I just wanted to talk to you. Only..." He glanced behind him. Other students milled about, and Mrs Blackmore peered at them through the window.

When he returned his gaze to Diana, she had a sort of impish glint about her eyes, a new expression that he had begun to see with increasing regularity over the past few weeks. She nodded in understanding and took hold of his cuff between her last two fingers, leading him away from the house.

* * *

"So what's this about?" asked Diana. They sat together beneath a tree at the very edge of a broad green. The tree was wide enough that they could each sit side by side leaning against the trunk, close enough in angle that they could continue their conversation unimpeded. 

Cole longed for his sketchbook, but shook it off. Instead he plucked daisy from near his knee, right at the base of the flower, and drew it close to his eye to examine and commit to memory. "Has... Anne ever mentioned a boy named Owen to you? He's in one of my classes, and... I've talked about him to her a fair bit."

"No?" He could hear the sly grin in her voice, even as he looked intently at the daisy. "It isn't a habit of Anne's to divulge other people's stories. Though I must say I am curious." She paused. He waited. "Dashingly handsome, is he?"

He smiled down at his flower, and let it drop a little. "Perhaps. But that isn't why I mention him." He leant his head back against the trunk and rolled it toward her, only to find her looking back at him, only a few inches away. "He told me about this place. In The Bog. It's like a bar, but..." He rolled his lips over his teeth nervously. "But it's only for people like us. Like us, and Jo, and Gertrude."

Her expression was a frozen lake. When she spoke, her voice was barely more than a breath. "He said that?"

"I think so. It was hard, because there were people nearby who could hear if they tried, and -"

Diana closed up immediately. It was like a curtain fell across her face, and all the light that had been reflected there was extinguished. She turned away, facing forward again, hands flying to each other in her lap. "It's a bad idea."

"Diana -"

"You don't even know if that's what he was talking about. And based on that assumption, you want to go to The Bog at night, alone, to a bar, when you're underage."

"I don't want to go alone."

She sneered, but it was half-hearted. "I suppose your new friend Owen will chaperone?"

"No, Diana..." He reached across and pulled one of her hands free, lacing her fingers in his own. "I'm telling you because I want you to come with me. That's why I'm here."

He heard her breath catch. She kept looking ahead, lip quivering, but she didn't pull her hand away. At last, she turned to look at him again. She looked scared, yes, but there was something else. Something... hopeful? "This boy, Owen," she said. "You trust him?"

"I think so." He exhaled. "I just... Imagine it. If it really is what I think it is. A place where everyone is free to be themselves."

"Like the summer soiree?"

"But every night."

The hope and excitement swelled behind her eyes, but it was still tempered with fear.

He squeezed her hand. "We'll be careful. The moment anything seems wrong, we can leave. And we'll only go together, if we're both comfortable with it."

She pressed her lips together, eyes shining. After a moment, she said: "Alright. When shall we go?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... the writing the whole fic in advance did Not work out lmao, so I cobbled this together during lunch breaks and will be doing the same for the rest from now on

And so, a week after their meeting, Diana lay awake, dressed under her covers, listening in the dark for the slow, measured breathing that would tell her Anne was asleep. Her heart thudded in the silence, the blood thundering in her ears and making her rib cage reverberate. She tried to keep her own breathing even, desperate that nothing should appear amiss to keep Anne awake and wondering any longer than necessary. At last, the room filled with soft snores. The rest of the house was silent. It was time.

Five minutes later, she was stealing away across the lawn, having swung down to the ground using the tree that stood next to her window. She said a silent thanks that she had ended up with the side of the room that she had, since she didn't think she could have gotten that close to Anne's bed without waking her, and Anne had joked just last week that she should have picked the other bed that she might've had a replacement for the Snow Queen. 

Diana and Cole met exactly halfway between Jo's house and the boarding house, so neither of them had to travel too far alone. Cole was wearing his usual waistcoat and bow-tie under his coat, a red scarf around his neck. He was twisting his hands anxiously when she turned the corner, but as soon as he caught sight of her he waved excitedly.

"Did you get out okay?" he asked, falling into step beside her.

"I think so. I suppose I won't know for sure until I get back. Did you?"

"Easily. Jo is a heavy sleeper. I don't think she'd wake up even if you jumped directly onto her bed."

Diana suppressed a smile. "I have a story about that, actually."

* * *

Perhaps she imagined it, but The Bog seemed even darker than the rest of the town. Shady figures milled around building entrances, or eyes glinted as shadows turned to watch them from alleyways. She kept a tight grip on Cole's arm as he led them down the wood-slatted paths, trying to look confident.

At last they reached a wooden building with a man standing outside, guarding the door. There was faint music coming from inside. Cole stopped. "This should be it," he trembled.

It looked like barely more than a shack to Diana. She eyed the man warily. He was watching them. "Do we just... walk over?"

"I suppose we'll find out." He led them over.

The man looked them up and down. He wore a large square overcoat that made him look even more tall and broad. "You folks lost?"

"I don't believe so," said Cole. He drew himself up, trying to look older. "Is this establishment... That is, this building..." He was floundering.

"We're looking for like-minded individuals," put in Diana.

The man looked down at them, his gaze traveling from one face to the other and back again. Finally, he broke out in a grin, a golden tooth gleaming from behind his lips. "I reckon maybe you kids _are_ in the right place." He moved out of the way of the door. "Step inside."

"Thank you," said Diana. 

And then they were in.

The crowded room was lively and lit by candles, more reminiscent of the Baynards' house than the summer soiree. A group played guitars and fiddles standing on a raised platform and people danced in the middle, or others stood in groups talking and laughing. Some couples stood close, indecently close, heads together, murmured conversations that were impossible to hear even the rhythm of over the music. Somehow Diana hadn't expected there to be so many colored people, despite the bar's location. In fact, none of it was anything like she expected.

And maybe it frightened her a little. But maybe it thrilled her more. It was a feeling not dissimilar to the one she had gotten when she had crept home with or stolen glances and kisses from Jerry, only it wasn't tempered by the sick dread she had felt underneath those experiences. Nor was the fear overpowering, like the shock of the summer soiree. This wasn't rebellion, it was freedom. It was home. 

"Cole!"

She jumped when she saw the figure heading straight for them, stepping closer to Cole. Alright, so perhaps she wasn't completely at ease yet.

A blond-haired boy appeared from the crowd, grinning widely. He was shorter than Cole, yet obviously several years older, with ringlets down to his jawline, haloing his cherubic face.

"Owen," said Cole, breathlessly. 

Owen wrapped him in a hug, burrowing his face into his chest. "You made it!" He pulled back, noticed Diana. "Hi!"

"Hello." His cheeks were ruddy, and his grey eyes shone. Diana wondered if he'd been drinking. "I'm a friend of Cole's." She had to raise her voice to be heard over the hubbub around them.

"Oh, I know. Cole has told me all about you and _Anne._ " He gave her a significant look.

Her cheeks flushed. She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She looked wordlessly at Cole.

Owen just laughed. He turned to Cole as well. He stuck out a hand, wiggled his fingers. "Would you like to dance with me?"

"Oh..." Cole glanced at Diana.

"You go. I'm going to get something to drink."

He offered her one of his twisting, lop-sided smiles in gratitude, and gave his hand to Owen. Owen held it above his head like a prize as he led Cole closer to the band.

Diana stood alone in the mix of people near the entrance. She straightened her back and held up her head, but then wondered whether the rules of etiquette that had been drilled into her for so long even applied here. It was so far removed from everything she'd been brought up to believe. She let a smile curl her lips, flexed her hands at her side, and relaxed. Surely she could just _be_ here. She had been anxious at the soiree, but she was mature now. She knew herself better. She lived away from her parents. She had fought to go to college, and won.

She could certainly enjoy a night out here.

She made her way to the bar directly through the dance-floor. She threw herself into the swathe of bodies and let herself be swept along through, and was deposited on the other side breathless and laughing.

"Could I get a soda water, please?" Her confidence didn't extend to underage drinking just yet. Besides, the nauseated memory of the incident with the currant wine was still fresh in her mind.

"Let me pay for that."

It took Diana a moment to realise that the comment had been directed at her. She turned slowly, blood and nerves singing in anticipation of what she would see.

It was a woman. She was older than Diana - Diana thought she and Cole might be the youngest two people here - but not by much. She had brown eyes that sparkled and crinkled in a way that suggested both humour and intelligence. Her skin was brown, too, but not as dark as Bash's. It was more like the color of the Lake of Shining Waters after a heavy rain, clouded and opaque. Her hair, tight curls cropped close to her head, was uncovered. She was wearing trousers, and she was smiling at Diana expectantly.

"Oh... Oh!" Diana garbled, realising she should say something in reply. "I... Thank you."

"Quite alright." She placed some coins on the counter, not taking her eyes from Diana. "Why don't you come sit down next to me and talk a while?"

Diana hesitated for only a moment. After all, why had she come to night if not to meet people like herself? "Thank you," she said again, dumbly.

The woman's smile grew momentarily wider. "You are _welcome_. What's your name, honey?"

"Diana." She wanted to ask the woman's name in return, but she couldn't stop the rehearsals in her head from sounding accusatory.

" _Diana_. That's lovely. You're quite young to come here alone, aren't you, Diana?"

"I'm here with a friend. He's just dancing at the moment."

"Well, as long as you have a chaperone." The woman laughed lightly, and it made Diana want to laugh too, even though she didn't know what was funny. She scanned Diana's face, searchingly. There was something kindly in her eyes, a protective spark, and she twisted her mouth, apparently coming to some conclusion. She stuck out a hand. "I'm Marlowe."

Diana shook it.

"This your first time?"

Was she so obviously out of place? "Yes. That is, it's my first time _here_ , but it's not my first time being around -" She stopped. In her mortification, she had started her sentence without knowing exactly how she would end it.

Marlowe laughed again. She opened her mouth to say something else, but was interrupted by the arrival of another woman. This new woman made her presence known with a hand slipped around Marlowe's waist, a slide into her chair, a slow kiss on the lips. The kiss was so easy, so casual, that Diana couldn't stop the delighted smile that spread across her face, instead covering it with her hand. This woman had _kissed_ Marlowe, as if it were the most comfortable and normal greeting in the world. Diana felt like someone had lit a candle in her chest, and now its soft glow warmed her right through, radiating outwards from her heart.

The woman noticed Diana and took in her smile with some amusement. "And who is this?"

"This is my new friend Diana," said Marlowe. She turned to Diana and gestured to the woman. "This is Ida. My beloved." She leaned even closer to Ida, her voice becoming conspiratorial. "It's Diana's first time."

Diana barely heard it. _Beloved_. She was suddenly so full of some implacable emotion that she felt she couldn't speak. Her cheeks hurt at the power of her smile, but she also felt a little like weeping.

Ida and Marlowe exchanged a knowing look from within each other's arms. "Where are you from, sweetheart?" asked Ida.

"Avonlea," Diana admitted, coming out as a half-laugh.

"Well, new friend Diana," she said. "You'll find that the world is much bigger than Avonlea."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was pretty Diana-centric so the next chapter we'll follow Cole on their next visit to the bar :)
> 
> Also I know how this fic ends but there's room for some more stuff to happen in the meantime as they keep going back, so let me know if there's anything you'd particularly like to see/explore and I'll see what I can do!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. It's been a while. Hi.
> 
> There are a lot of reasons it took me a year to update this. Part of it was stuff in my own life - I got a new job, among other things - and the mess that was 2020. But it's also because, even though I always knew how this story was going to end, I kept convincing myself I would be able to squeeze out some more filler chapters of these kids having fun. I couldn't. So here's the ending.
> 
> There are other reasons for the delay which may became obvious during the reading of the chapter. I'll talk about those in my end notes.
> 
> Have fun, peace out.

Cole could hardly believe that the last few months had been real. He leant back against the wall, resettling carefully so that he wouldn’t jostle Owen too much. He didn’t want to lose that warm, steady weight on his chest where the cherubic head leaned against him. One arm was draped across Owen’s shoulder, the other playing with his blond curls. He closed his eyes, letting the music and the burble of conversation wash over him.

“I’ve been thinking,” said Owen, his voice slightly raised over the noise but still rich and even.

Cole opened his eyes, shifting to the side a little so that he could better see his companion’s face.

“You know Michael? He likes to paint. Favours the Renaissance style.”

“I know Michael.”

Owen turned his head, gazing up at Cole from those blue eyes. “I’ve been thinking about inviting him one night. Here.”

Cole stiffened, but forced himself to relax, knowing Owen could feel his every move. “He’s…-?”

“I don’t know for sure. But I think so.”

“Oh.” He squirmed, trying not to make it obvious. “That’s… a risk.”

“Yes,” Owen conceded. He squeezed Cole’s hand. “But I took a risk inviting you, too.”

This was true. Cole smiled in acknowledgement, but something about Owen comparing him with Michael made him uncomfortable. He had thought… well, he wasn’t sure what he had thought. He wasn’t sure what he _should_ think. “Did you want a drink?”

Owen shook his head, so Cole carefully extricated himself from beneath him and walked to the bar alone, mind whirring.

Perhaps it was because he was lost in thought, or perhaps it was the speed of it; either way, it was hard to pinpoint the exact moment the atmosphere changed. It began as a slow rumble, a ripple of panic under the music that was difficult to distinguish from the normal current of conversation.

Something twisted in his stomach before he registered it in his brain. He opened his mouth to ask someone idly what was wrong, but before he could there was a shout from near the door.

“ _Raid_! Everybody out!”

The music stopped, replaced by yells. All the candles went out in disparate, guttering puffs. The room was plunged into a screaming darkness.

People were moving. Cole’s heart leapt to his throat and hammered there against his Adam’s apple. He stayed stood at the bar, unable to process it, his mind still stupidly stuck on Michael, the painter, whose subjects were always beautiful and glowing. People passed him in the darkness, bodies pressing into him, knocking him. The air was electric. Everywhere noise. The room had become a seething mass of fear, the same fear that pulsed now in his limbs and made his eyes water, but something rooted him and stopped him from letting himself be swept away with them. He realised what it was with a strange coldness.

“Diana,” he shouted, or intended to, but it came out half-formed and quiet. “ _Diana!_ ” he tried again, his voice strangled.

“Cole,” came a voice, and a grip on his arm, but it wasn’t her. It was Owen. Owen had come to find him. Surely that meant he could find Diana? There were still so many people in the room. Only a few moments had passed.

“Diana,” was all Cole could say. He was staring at Owen, at the impossibility of him, in this impossible situation, this angel-faced boy whom Cole had kissed without fear, now holding him and staring back at him through the darkness in the middle of all this chaos.

“Cole, come on.” He pulled at his arm and then Cole _was_ moving, and once he was moving he found that he could not stop. There were police whistles outside now, high and shrill, more shouting that wasn’t just screams, the noise like a physical force pushing them forward and chasing them out.

They passed through into a narrow corridor, crushed with people. Cole felt the heat of contact through the layers of his clothes, and he realised in some distant, disconnected corner of his brain that he’d left his coat behind. The chittering fear surrounding him made his blood fizz, but somehow the press kept flowing forward, and suddenly he was through some unseen boundary and the cold night air slapped against his clammy skin and the crowd was dispersing and Owen was pulling him forward once more.

They ran down the slatted pathway and then plunged sideways into the mess of the Bog. There were shouts and cries behind them, police whistles still blowing, but Cole didn’t look back. It was pitch black anyway. His face stung cold and he realised it was wet with tears. Still, they ran.

He ran mindlessly, letting Owen lead the way, didn’t think or exist past the pumping of his legs, dragging them through the mud. He only slowly when Owen slowed, when Owen staggered to a halt, when Owen finally pulled his hand from his. Cole wanted to grab hold of it again, but now he stopped he could hardly move, hardly breathe, as if the energy wasn’t his but given to him by Owen.

He doubled over, hands on his knees, panting. They were between two buildings, a makeshift alleyway, but the moon hung unobscured above them, and through the gloom he could see Owen doing the same. It was quiet now, save for their breathing. He realised he had no idea where they were.

“I have to go back,” he gasped, as soon as he could speak. “I have to… Diana…”

Owen staggered towards him. “You can’t. Cole, _listen_ to me. You can’t. You have to go home. Alright?”

Now that he was closer, he could see that Owen was crying too.

“Please. Please just go home. I’ll see you on Monday, okay?”

Cole’s blood was still humming with energy, but the adrenaline was ebbing, and he began to shake. Images flitted unbidden through his mind – things he had seen in their flight from the bar, seen but not processed, not until now. He let out a little “Oh…”. He felt sick. He felt faint.

“ _Please_ , Cole.”

He nodded, mutely. Owen was right. He needed to go home.

* * *

“ _JO!_ ” Cole threw himself through the side window that he used to sneak in and out, nearly knocking over a vase in his haste. “Jo!”

He had run all the way back to the house and was exhausted, but he forced himself through the room and up the staircase. He got to Jo’s room and slammed the flat of his hand against the door over and over again, not stopping until it opened.

“What on _Earth –_ “

“Diana and I have been going to the Bog every week for months,” he choked out. There were tears in his eyes again and he could hardly breathe from running, but he persisted. “A boy in my class told me about a bar there for people like us so I’ve been taking Diana there, and we were there tonight.” He paused again to gulp down a breath, and Jo’s eyes travelled down to take in his dirty, dishevelled clothes. “But then there was a raid or something and the police came, and I couldn’t find Diana –“

Jo put up her hand to stop him. Her expression was impassive, unchanging, but something in her eyes had changed at his last sentence. “Wait here,” she said, her voice icy calm and authoritative, and she closed the door in his face.

Cole stood in the hallway, flexing and unflexing his hands, feeling impotent, adrenaline and exhaustion making him tremble. Rollings appeared at the bottom of the stairs in his nightclothes, looking up at Cole questioningly. Cole shook his head, but Rollings stayed where he was.

Presently, Jo re-appeared, fully dressed. She glided past him without looking in his direction and descended the stairs. Cole followed her, but as they reached the door she turned and put her hand up to him once more. “See that he remains here,” she said, holding Cole’s gaze but addressing Rollings. “I’m going to fetch Diana so that I may deal with them together.” Then, with one final look of displeasure levelled toward Cole, she disappeared into the night unchaperoned.

* * *

Diana refused to cry.

Instead, she sat on the bench by herself and was scared. She was scared about what was happening to her future right at that moment. She was scared about what would happen when her parents found out. She was scared about what had happened to everyone else who had been at the bar.

She was scared about Cole.

When the police had caught her, they hadn’t known what to do with her. She was younger than they were expecting, a young, white woman, dressed expensively. But since she wouldn’t speak to offer them a satisfactory explanation for being out in the Bog alone in the middle of the night, or even to give them her name, they had had no choice other than to bring her in. They’d placed her in a holding cell by herself, with a promise to send word to someone as soon as she gave them any information as to who might be relevant. In the morning, they would contact the college.

Diana supposed sleeping would pass the time, but she didn’t see how she could. She could only wait miserably for her ruination, and hope that her friends had got away. Her holding cell was the closest to the entrance, and from where she sat she could see the waiting area. Still, she must’ve been the last to be brought in, if indeed anyone else had been, since she had seen no one come through. The policeman at the front desk was reading a book, but you could only see that from her vantage point, since he hid it below the lip of the desk. She found herself wondering what book it was. And if she could ask for something to read herself.

There was the sound of a door opening. The policeman at the desk looked up, and his eyes widened. He made as if to stand, stopping himself at the last second with an embarrassed expression. “Miss Barry,” he said, clumsily. “How may I help you this evening?”

Diana leapt to her feet and rushed to the front of the cell. Sure enough, Aunt Jo was in the doorway, a severe expression on her face. “Good evening,” she said. “I’ve come to enquire about my niece. She was separated from her chaperone on her way home. I was hoping to enlist the help of you gentleman in locating her.”

“Your… niece?” The officer glanced over to where Diana stood, taking in the pained expression on her face.

Aunt Jo took a step forward, following his gaze. Her face darkened even further. “Tell me, are you in the habit of arresting lost girls?”

“She – That is, we were –“

“What on Earth were you thinking of, locking her up like that? Let her out at once.”

He stood, fully this time, fumbling for the keys at his waist. “She wouldn’t give us her name,” he explained, apologetically. “We thought –“

“I dare say she wouldn’t. I imagine you frightened the life out of her.”

She waited frostily as the man walked to the door of Diana’s cell, fitting the iron key into the lock. The big door swung heavily open, and he escorted her into the care of her great aunt.

Aunt Jo looked her up and down, her face betraying nothing. “Are you harmed?”

Diana, still unable to speak, though now for entirely different reasons, simply shook her head.

“Good.” She turned towards the policeman. “Just as well for _you_ ,” she added, pointedly.

“My sincerest apologies, Miss Barry.” He regained himself a little, shooting Diana a look. “We… will be sure to keep an eye out for her in future. Ma’am.”

Aunt Jo let the comment pass. He no longer existed in her world. With a frail hand gripping firmly to Diana’s shoulder, she marched them both out of the room and into the waiting carriage.

* * *

They rode home in silence. Diana was desperate to ask about Cole, but she daren’t be the first to be speak. She hoped that her great aunt’s appearance meant that he was well, that he’d made it back to the house to raise the alarm – a scenario which would come with its own perils, but if it meant he was safe…

She did not think about the raid. She very pointedly did _not_ think about it. She ignored the trembling in her limbs. She ignored what she had felt when the call went up, ignored what she had seen as she was dragged away, ignored the sounds that had come from the other cells while she waited, alone, unharmed, impotent. She was very good at ignoring.

She just sat in silence, feeling the cold night air on her wet face – she could not stop her face from being wet – watching Aunt Jo’s hands on the reins. Aunt Jo, furious, silent. She wondered if she’d ever seen her drive before.

* * *

The tips of the fingers on Cole’s left hand were curled around his bottom lip, almost tight enough to draw blood. His thumb pressed against them, white at the joint. He was sitting on one of the couches in the parlour, Rollings standing watchful and silent in front of the door. His face was blotchy red, circling out in convex spirals from his raw eye sockets. Occasionally a tear would slip noiselessly from one of them, but his breathing at least was even now. He waited.

There was the sound of horses outside. Cole sat up. He looked to Rollings in a silent question. Rollings gave him the slightest nod, and stepped away from the doorway. He launched himself from the couch into the hall and stood there, staring at the front door, fists clenched in anticipation.

The door opened.

Jo entered first, sweeping in with grim determination. Behind her, cringing and wretched, was Diana.

She stopped when she saw him, eyes large. The two of them looked at each other for a long moment, taking each other in, the wholeness of them. Then, with a stifled sob, Diana threw herself around Cole’s neck. Cole wrapped his arms around her middle, clinging to her. The tears rose up in him again and he screwed his eyes closed.

“When you are ready,” said Jo, as Rollings helped her off with her overcoat, “I would like to speak with you both in the parlour. Please join me there.” She swept away, Rollings following close behind.

They were left alone in the hall.

They emerged from their embrace, but stayed gripping each other’s sleeves at their forearms.

“Are you alright?” said Cole, in a choked voice.

She nodded furiously. “Are _you_?”

“I got away. So did Owen. But I saw – Did they – Your _dress_ –”

“I fell. It’s nothing. They didn’t know if I’d been there or not –”

“Diana, I saw –"

“I know. Oh, Cole, the cells –"

“Did they –"

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

They squeezed each other’s arms tighter.

Diana sniffed, and took a deep breath, composing herself. “ _Thank you_ ,” she said, sincerely, “for sending Aunt Jo. She told them I’d just gotten lost, she –“

“Did she say anything to you?”

Diana looked down the hallway over Cole’s shoulder. “Not a word. You?”

“No. I told her what happened and she just left.” He twisted so that he could look after Jo too. “I suppose we should go talk to her.”

He looked back to Diana, who nodded, grimly. They released each other’s forearms, and took a moment to scrub their faces dry and breathe deeply. When they were done, Diana held out her hand. Cole took it, and together, they walked to face Josephine.

* * *

“Please, sit down,” said Jo as they entered.

They sat on the couch that faced her armchair, their clasped hands resting on the cushion between them.

She sat up straight, hands balanced on her cane, and surveyed them both, letting them feel the weight of gaze. “I like to think,” she said, quiet, measured, “that I have created an environment for you both here where you feel that you can come to me with matters that are important to you. Of course, I don’t delude myself into imagining that you would share your whole lives with an old woman like me, but I’d hope that you would trust me with matters that could concern your well-being. Since this is the first I am hearing of this venture, I can only surmise that you didn’t tell me because you well knew that I would not approve.” Her face and the hands on her cane grew tight, and when she spoke again her voice was cold. “Do you have _any_ idea what could have happened?”

Cole and Diana said nothing. They just sat there, squeezing and squeezing the other’s hand.

“Here is what _would_ have happened if you had come to me. I would not have stopped you. Goodness knows I understand the impulse to seek out people of a kind with yourself. I had hoped that my summer soirees would provide a safe environment for you to do so, but you are young and irrepressible. I understand. So I would never have prevented you from going.” She paused, regarding them, making sure they were listening. “I would have advised you. I would have given you lessons that I myself had to learn the hard way. I would have waited up for you so that I could be sure that you returned safely. That you have been going out without my knowledge all this time –”

She stopped to compose herself. Cole swallowed, hard.

“The world is wide, and joyful. I want you both to experience everything that life has to offer. But terrible things can happen. They have happened to people that I care about deeply. They have happened to people you knew tonight. If you had only told me of your intentions, I could have helped to ensure that they did not happen to you.”

She rose, dignified on her cane, not looking away from them for a second. “You have been irresponsible, and you have been foolish. While your actions were understandable, they were also the actions of selfish children.” She stepped forward so that she stood in front of the couch, towering above them. “I say these things because I care about you both very deeply. I am sure that even now, you don’t comprehend the extent of how lucky you have been. It is my hope that it is a long time before you learn.”

She leant forward, kissing them both stiffly on the forehead in turn, first Diana, then Cole. She turned away, making her careful way to the door. “Now it is very late,” she said as she went, “and we should all get some sleep. Diana, you may stay in your usual suite. I’ll accompany you back to your boarding house in the morning and explain that you had a family emergency.”

“Thank you,” Diana managed to say, but her voice was so weak that she wasn’t sure that it could reach Jo in the doorway.

Jo paused, and turned to face them. She did not smile, but there was an undeniable softness to her expression, a fondness around her eyes. “Goodnight, dear young hearts,” she said. And she disappeared from sight down the hall. Rollings slipped away after her.

Diana and Cole stayed where they were, unspeaking for several long moments. They felt the weight of Jo’s words, of their actions, of the world and the way it was. Slowly, Diana withdrew her hand.

“Cole,” she said, quietly.

“Diana.”

She turned to face him, her eyes shining. “I… care about you very much. You do know that?”

He gave her a weak smile. “I care about you.”

They stood, and headed up the stairs to their respective rooms. They paused in the hall before parting, and embraced each other once more.

“Despite everything… I really enjoyed spending time with you,” Cole said.

“It was nice while it lasted,” Diana agreed.

They did not say what they were both thinking. While they would not return in the near future, they both felt the truth of it in their cores; one day, they knew, they would return to the bar in the Bog.

Nothing would stop them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In many ways I didn't want to write this chapter. This was literally the reason I thought of this fic and wanted to write it, but I also love my kids so much and just want them to be happy. I think they will be, though.
> 
> There's also the biggest reason I didn't feel comfortable posting this until now that needs to be mentioned: I did not want to use police brutality as some little fandom plot point while the conversation around BLM was at its height. I did not want to use something so serious as a source of fictional conflict as a white person in my story about white characters. It is a real problem that hurts real people, not a source of entertainment.
> 
> Of course, police raids on gay bars is also a real problem, particularly historically, and that's what I wanted to write about. I tried to do so respectfully and sensitively. Mostly I wanted to look at Cole and Diana as part of a younger generation and an already changing community, and how their experiences as young gay kids are already going to be different simply because Jo is in their lives to support them. It's something I'd like to explore more; I love all three of them (and Rollings, and of course Anne) very much.

**Author's Note:**

> I start a new job next week so I'm hoping to write most of this over the next couple of days and then upload it periodically throughout December but who knows what will happen
> 
> 1 review = 1 lesbian kiss for Diana xxx


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